I think this time I'm dying I'm not melodramatic I'm just pragmatic beyond any Reasoning for thinking I've Got fucking rabies or something I think this time I'm dying I think this time I'm dying
I think I've lost my mind Blurring the fact and the fiction Whilst simultaneously fixing Myself up with a girl named panadol Bite the tablet, elixir Disintegrate, mouth's a mixer I think I've lost my mind I think I've lost my mind
If I could just break one more night Maybe I could wake up and feel alright My optimistically set alarm clock time Serves only to mock me with flashing lights
I think I've made my choice I'm a disease playing victim Slip the fate slip the victory I think I've made my choice Sink secluded in hatred Void the plans friends are making I think I've found my voice I'm a leech sucking blood bags Taste defeat, it's a sandbag
Saline solution Saline solution to all your Saline solution Saline solution to all your Problems
Compositor: William Patrick Gold (Wilbur Soot) (PRS)Editor: Warner Chappell Music Ltd (PRS)Administração: Warner Chappell Music Ltd (PRS)ECAD verificado obra #34926397 em 21/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM